Pines Family vs Technology
by detectivejigsaw
Summary: A collection of short stories about, obviously, members of the Pines family trying to work with the pernicious appliances of our world. I have some ideas for future ones in mind, but I am always open to new suggestions.
1. Stan and Ford vs Cell Phone

"Primitive-looking," Ford said critically, examining the small plastic rectangle.

"This from the guy who thought we still use floppy disks and 8-tracks," Stan muttered.

"I heard that. And I'll have you know I found a few dimensions where those are still perfectly serviceable." Cautiously he poked at the button at the bottom, and then looked a little disappointed at the picture that popped up on the screen. "Thirty years, and people still haven't figured out how to make tangible projections?"

"Whatever, Sixer. Let's just get this stupid thing set up."

* * *

_Five minutes later_

"No no _no_, I'm telling you, you're pressing the buttons too hard!"

"They're not even real _buttons_, they're just pictures! And when I press softer it doesn't get the right one!"

"That's because you keep aiming for the wrong one-give me that!"

"Keep off, I've lived in this dimension a lot longer than you, I know the technology better!"

"Could've fooled me, Stanley-now look what you've done!"

"Ugh, where's the little x that erases everything?"

"It's over-no, not that one, that's the letter-look, it's just like using a computer, the keyboard is the same, just smaller! Don't you ever use a regular computer?"

"Not when I have Soos or Wendy around to use it for me."

* * *

_Three minutes later_

"Gah, this autocorrect system is even more impossible than talking to people from the Symbol Dimension! Stop trying to change Dipper's name to Devin! That doesn't even make sense!"

"Just imagine what it'll do if you try to text about Lottocron 9 or whatever."

"Very likely it will just try to correct it to Lottery-okay, there we go, I sent Mabel a text letting her know that we've got this figured out."

"Yeah, really 'figured out,' since it took you two minutes just to get it right. Aren't you supposed to know about all this stuff, brainiac?"

"You're the one who's been living with the technology here for thirty years! You'd think that if you could figure out how to reassemble the portal based on one journal by itself-"

"And _you're_ the one who built the portal in the first place, remember? You called Dipper 'Devin' again, by the way."

"Oh for-!"

* * *

It was only by chance that the younger Pines twins came back to the shack in time to stop their gruncles from smashing the phone with a baseball bat and the butt end of a gun, respectively.

* * *

**I'm sorry if this is out of character at all, since Ford is supposed to be a scientific genius who's traveled to multiple dimensions and therefore is probably an expert on all types of technology, but the mental image of him and Stan struggling over correct use of a phone was just too funny to let go. The idea I was trying to convey was that it's more low-tech than he's become used to, so he still has trouble with it. You know?**

**They probably have to remind Stan very firmly how expensive the phone was so he won't try to destroy it again, and then spend the rest of the evening teaching both him and Ford about how to use it.**

**If you have any other suggestions for stories about the Pines family struggling with technology (Soos and Wendy probably count as part of the family, even though I'm less confident about being able to write their POV's), I'm all ears. Metaphorically speaking.**


	2. Ford vs Car

**This is set after Mabel and Dipper have already gone back to Piedmont, but before the Pines twins classic set off on their own adventures. Just to clarify.**

* * *

Stan was still snickering to himself as they returned to the shack.

"Shut _up_," Ford growled, shoving his (larger than average on account of his extra finger) hands into his coat pockets after slamming the car door.

"I'm just impressed, that's all," Stan said with a smug grin, following his twin back towards the house. "I don't think I've heard of anyone failing the driver's test in such a…" he fumbled for the perfect nerd word his brother would understand, "_spectacular_ way before."

"I haven't had to drive in around thirty years, okay?! I'm out of practice!" he protested, feeling his face reddening.

"I still taught a _bear_ how to drive better than you!"

Ford gave Stan a long look over his shoulder, before shaking his head. "Not even going to ask."

"Just remember, you can take the test again in seven days," Stan reminded him cheerfully as they went inside. "Assuming they haven't decided to ban you from the DMV, of course."

In hindsight, maybe sending the car (Stan had refused to let him use the Stanmobile for the test so he and Fiddleford had repaired one from the dump) skidding around the street corner on two wheels to avoid that truck had been a bad idea, but he'd calculated perfectly, and after crashing through that fence and rolling down the side of the hill he'd managed to land them right-side up. It wasn't his fault the vehicle had been a lot less durable than the star cruiser he'd had to steal once (which, come to think of it, hadn't managed to end up intact either)…

* * *

He was stopped from storming off to the basement (to lose himself in research, of course; definitely not to sulk in any way, shape or form) by his brother's voice asking tentatively, "It...wasn't because you were having flashbacks, was it?"

Stanley was giving him his 'I'm trying not to be too openly concerned because I don't want you to feel crowded or patronized' expression, head tilted and eyes troubled behind their spectacles.

Ford stopped glowering and tried to smile reassuringly.

"Only a little bit at the beginning. Mostly I just forgot how to use a stick shift." And, well, he kept trying to press buttons and dials that weren't there, weren't even necessary for this type of vehicle.

It was enough to satisfy Stan. Who proceeded to saunter forward, eyebrows bouncing, and say, "Sounds like you need someone to give you lessons…"

Ford sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, Stanley, I would like you to re-teach me how to drive, please."

"Yes!" His twin's fists shot up into the air, and for a moment he looked like he might do a victory dance or something.

Ford sighed again, more loudly.

"Aw, don't be like that, Poindexter. It's not every day I get the opportunity to be the one teaching _you_ something." Before he knew it, he was being pulled into a quick headlock (which he could escape from if he wanted to, of course, but what the heck) and his hair was being ruffled by affectionate noogying. Ford pulled himself free after a few seconds and punched Stan in the arm, leading to a quick and friendly punch fight.

* * *

By the time they decided to pretend they were mature adults again and got dinner started, Ford had forgotten about any desire he might have to sulk.


	3. Stan vs Electric Razor

**Here's a nice little Sea Grunks short, partly inspired from a few comments I've received.**

* * *

There were few things Stan regretted about having those two little gremlins come to stay with him for the summer.

Very few, in fact, considering that thanks to them, he finally felt whole again for the first time in forty years. Sure, he regretted all the times they had been in danger, or when he'd done things that had hurt them in some way (especially those), but he didn't regret all the fun times they'd had together.

But right now, he was kind of regretting that he'd let Mabel give him lessons to make him more likable to Lazy Susan. Specifically, he was regretting that he'd let her try to shave his chest, considering that it had been months since then and he was _still_ trying to unclog his razor of all the excess hair.

"C'mon, stupid-" he wacked the bottom of the razor with his palm, trying to dislodge the chunk that had to be in there somewhere jamming it up.

The razor remained stubbornly uncooperative.

With a growl, Stan banged it on the table a few times-and let out a frustrated curse when the entire bottom half broke off, complete with a small puff of smoke and a large pile of burned hair that was dumped out onto the tabletop.

"...You know, there's always a simpler solution," a smug voice from behind him began to say.

"I am _not_ setting my face on fire every morning," Stan growled, taking the opportunity to finish cleaning out the razor and then groping around for the toolbox. "End of story."

"I'm just saying," Ford said in a tone he would have denied was wheedling, "if you're going to be stubborn and cheap and refuse to just buy a new one, you should probably go with a simpler, more efficient solution."

"You are not making it sound any more appealing," Stan said flatly, grabbing a screwdriver.

"It doesn't even hurt most of the time! All it takes is a little practice and-"

"**NO**."

* * *

Stan ignored the way his twin was sulking behind him, and stared thoughtfully at the remains of his razor, looking for which part he needed to fix.

Maybe he should just grow a beard; they were living on a boat out in the middle of the Arctic Ocean anyway, who was gonna judge him? Or he could use a knife, like in the movies; he was sure they could pick up some cheap shaving cream the next time they were in port…

Then Ford was sitting down next to him with a grudging "Move over," and grabbing up some tools himself.

Stan smiled.

* * *

**The score so far:**

**Technology: 3. Pines Family: 0.**


End file.
